


Freedom in Life, Purpose in Death

by fortheloveofjedi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Gray Jedi, Kylo Ren Redemption, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-01 11:09:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6516040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fortheloveofjedi/pseuds/fortheloveofjedi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ambivalence (n.)<br/>1. uncertainty or fluctuation, especially when caused by inability to make a choice or by a simultaneous desire to say or do two opposite or conflicting things<br/>2. (psychology) the coexistence within an individual of positive and negative feelings toward the same person, object, or action, simultaneously drawing him or her in opposite directions</p>
<p>These were the things that his father’s death should have struck down. These were the things that Kylo Ren should not be dreaming of. These were the things that would force Snoke to take his life. But, these were also the things that Kylo now held dearest, in his heart of hearts, locked away behind a fortress of mental protection against his Master and the world. These were the things that were breathing life back into the lungs of Ben Solo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, my lovely Reylo fans! This is my first work for this fandom, and I'm still trying to feel out exactly where I want to go with the story. I have a good idea, and I hope you all will enjoy it. This is a small taste of what is to come, so I would sincerely appreciate feedback or ideas from you.

_It should have worked._

_Abandonment, from Han’s frequent trips across the galaxy during his childhood. Loneliness, from Leia’s long days spent in Senate Chambers, eloquent words spoken to the masses rather than to her son. Confusion, from his sudden relocation to the Temple, to his uncle who no longer acted like an uncle, but like a Master. Anger, at his family who hid his past from him, who neglected to tell him of the grandfather he’d come from. Bitterness, from Master Luke’s wary glances when he thought he wasn’t paying attention. Betrayal, when his parents chose adventures and meetings over visits at the Temple._

_These were the things that the Supreme Leader had spoken of. These were the things that Kylo Ren channeled on the bridge on Starkiller. These were the things that crushed Ben Solo’s heart and soul._

_But these things were not what Kylo Ren now dreamed about._

_Annoyance, at the pulling on his Padawan braid by the chubby hand of an infant. Surprise, at the laughter ringing through the meditation fields from a toddling girl with a toothy smile. Pride, when he was finally able to show his parents the progress he had made. Warmth, from the arms of a very affectionate Wookie who loved him like he was his own. Tolerance, towards the shadow with three small buns he had unknowingly adopted. Concern, when treating a mild burn on her arm from her first training session with the small training sabers. Fondness, at the steadily-growing bundle of energy climbing into his lap while he studied old holocrons. Elation, as he finally healed the small fur-covered creature with the power of the Light. Panic, at the fear in those light brown eyes, only made worse by the red glow of his new weapon of destruction. Determination, as he traded every valuable he had for her safety on that blasted desert wasteland, where no one would ever find her, where no one would ever think to look. Regret, at the hand of his father on his face, the love in his eyes never stronger than in the moment before his death._

_These were the things that his father’s death should have struck down. These were the things that Kylo Ren should not be dreaming of. These were the things that would force Snoke to take his life. But, these were also the things that Kylo now held dearest, in his heart of hearts, locked away behind a fortress of mental protection against his Master and the world._

_These were the things that were breathing life back into the lungs of Ben Solo._

 

* * *

 

 

“You know that I can’t swim, Master,” Rey all but growled through clenched teeth, fear making her snap when she normally wouldn’t have. Her arms were at her sides, discipline and determination keeping her from raising them instinctively to keep her balance. One foot was raised off of the uneven rock that she was currently standing on, leaving all of her weight on one foot. Luke was standing quite a few yards back, perfectly safe in the grass, his robes billowing around his legs in the wind that was threatening to crumple Rey like a weak cloth.

 

Normally, Rey was excellent at balancing. Years of scavenging had trained Rey’s body to fit into small spaces and climb to impossible heights. This, though, was unlike anything she’d ever faced. On the very edge of a cliff, balanced on the ball of her foot, her eyes closed, and the wind battering her from every side combined with her complete incompetency in the water…Rey was terrified. But, she supposed, that was the point of this exercise.

 

“Fear is an emotion, Rey,” Luke’s voice barely carried over the wind, though it was loud enough for her to hear. The reminder forced Rey to remember the Code, to whisper it to herself, telling her own mind the words that he had been trying to teach her since their first day on Ahch-To. “There is no emotion, there is peace. No emotion, peace. No fear. Do not fear the water, you aren’t going to fall,” she whispered to herself, and just as she had done that night on Starkiller, Rey centered herself. The mantra made it easier to tune out the sound of the crashing waves and howling wind, and the feeling of her toes growing numb and her foot beginning to bleed. She was still a little shaky, but the terror was no longer present, making it easier for her to focus and stay upright. And though Rey could not see him, she knew that Luke had smiled in that moment, for she was finally beginning to learn.

Rey smiled to herself, pride blossoming in her chest as she finally succeeded at a task he gave her. This was monumental for her. She had overcome her fear and stayed strong.

 

That was…until her every cell was filled with gut-wrenching pain.

 

It blossomed behind her eyes and spread throughout her body, a blood-curdling scream of agony ripping from her throat as it crippled her, sending the scavenger down off of the cliff and toward the choppy waves below. Rey never felt the impact, though, only pain, and then black.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Snoke punishes failure, Kylo Ren develops some doubt, and Rey learns about a boy called Ben Solo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, lovelies. Here's the second chapter of my fic, and I hope you enjoy!

Failure.

 

It tasted bitter in the Knight’s mouth, though it could have been the blood as well, dripping out over his chin in a bright river of agony and disappointment.

 

“Tell me, Kylo Ren,” a gravelly voice booms through the vast Temple hall, forcing the already-kneeling Knight to curl even closer to the ground in search of a respite from the pain it was causing in his mind, “am I not your master, and you my apprentice?”

 

It was a dangerous question, one that truly needed no answer, though Snoke was expecting one anyways. “Yes, Master,” he just barely managed to grit out through his teeth, voice uneven and weak, and unworthy of the Supreme Leader. Kylo knew he had miss-stepped immediately, and was not surprised when the stabbing pains under his skull doubled, pulling a low grunt from his lungs that he had refused to let out before.

 

Kylo had failed Snoke too many times, now. He was out of chances, and his life was in the palm of the Supreme Leader’s hand. It always had been.

 

“You brought her onto Starkiller, and then allowed her escape. Then you failed to return her to me. And now, Kylo Ren, you have developed _compassion_ for her. A weakness of the Jedi, the same weakness that almost brought your grandfather to ruin. And now, now I sense that you have guilt in your heart. Guilt for the death of _Han Solo._ ” The sneering tone was almost too much for Kylo, the humiliation burning hot on his already-feverish skin. It wasn’t all humiliation, though. Rage boiled through his veins, though he was careful to keep it in check.

 

“Sith do not feel compassion, nor do they feel guilt. You would do well to remember that, my apprentice, or I fear that I may need to search for a new pupil.”

 

And that was that. The pain in Kylo’s skull ceased, curbing off into a dull ache that allowed him to stand on shaky legs. The Knight knew when he was being dismissed, and made sure that his steps were as quick as possible, without falling down. He didn’t slow until the door to his quarters was firmly shut.

 

Fingers tensed and curled around the imaginary form of his lightsaber hilt, red-hot anger pulsing through his veins at it not being there for him to use, to maim and destroy, to vent his fury onto something inanimate so that he could _think_ properly. Too many thoughts were flying around in his head, the overstimulation combined with the mental torture almost enough to make him scream. And so he did. Kylo’s voice was cracked and hoarse by the end of it, and he was kneeling beside his cleanly-made bed, chest heaving with the effort to restore oxygen to his body.

 

Despite how he hated it, the Snoke was right. Guilt and compassion poured into the forefront of his mind as soon as he was alone, as soon as he had time to think and feel rather than simply take orders and act, and it was more painful than any torture that Snoke could bestow upon him.

 

It should have made him stronger. It should have made him invincible. But now, Kylo Ren was weak.

 

His sweat-stained robes were discarded between his bed and the refresher as the Knight made his way to it on still-shaky legs, pressing the correct sequence of buttons to have the water scalding hot and hard against his skin. The pain was different than his mental torture, physical and tangible, and he tried to use it to focus and center himself, to calm the fuck down. It wasn’t working, though, just as it hadn’t worked for weeks on end, and with a frustrated growl, he relented.

 

Head bowed against the cool tile of the refresher, Kylo closed his eyes and focused, sensing the warm string extending from himself into some unseen direction, the other end firmly connected with one Force-sensitive scavenger. He followed it like a dying man searching for water, careful to stay out of her mind so as not to alert her to his presence, but lingering just outside of it. Unwanted panic flooded his mind for a moment as he realized that he was unconscious, a result of his torture. She was being tended to, though, from what he could tell, no doubt by his uncle.

 

Kylo couldn’t help but press a little closer to her mind, seeking comfort in the way she always shone, a warmth that the First Order bases always seemed to lack. It worked, as it always did, settling his racing heart and thoughts. He had made another mistake, though. Because Rey’s mind was suddenly very much awake, both her verbal and mental words reaching him through the bond as she bolted into an upright position, eyes wide and chest heaving with a hoarse cry.

 

_“Ben!”_

 

* * *

 

 

She didn’t know why he was in pain, or why he had pressed up against her mind so insistently that it had risen her from her unconscious state, but Rey did know one thing: that had not been Kylo Ren. She told that exact thing to Luke quite a while later, after drinking enough tea to make the quivering of her hands still and the manic brightness of her eyes calm.

 

She would never forget the small flash of hope in his eyes when she told him.

 

“And are you sure that this wasn’t simply an attack on your mind? An attempt to cause you harm?” Luke’s voice was almost low enough to be a whisper, as if his nephew could hear him from over systems and stars away.

 

Rey shook her head gently, her hands firmly wrapped around yet another steaming cup of Luke’s herbal brew, a coarse blanket circling her body and holding in the heat that had been stolen from her body by the shock. Luke had somehow stopped her fall with the Force, enough to keep her from hitting the choppy waves and jagged rocks that would have been her ending. Grateful wasn’t descriptive enough for what she felt.

 

“It wasn’t an attack. The pain was there before he sought me out. It…it was like he was reaching out for me. I don’t understand.”

 

He was a monster. A murderer, who had killed hundreds of innocents, including his own father. By all accounts, Rey should not be feeling any sort of compassion towards him, and yet here she was, worrying herself over the sudden silence on his end of whatever this was.

 

“A Force Bond,” Luke’s voice cut through her musings suddenly. He said it with certainty, as if he had been ruminating on it for quite a while. Rey’s head snapped up, her eyes boring into his, confusion in her gaze. He didn’t give her time to question him, and simply continued. “They were quite common between Masters and Padawans, especially during the time of the established Jedi Order. A deepened sense of connection, sometimes so much that Masters and Padawans could communicate mentally through images and words. The proximity and trust between Master and Padawan was enough to form a Bond over many years, but this?—this is completely different and new.”

 

Luke stood from his low seat in the hut that he was currently calling home, beginning a slow pace with his hands clasped behind his back. “When you told me about what happened on Starkiller Base on your first night here, I had a suspicion that something like this had happened. Your sudden ability to manipulate the Force and to not only survive, but win, a fight against Kylo Ren…well, it wasn’t just luck, my padawan. And I am afraid that because of this, I can no longer hide the truth from you.”

 

Luke’s shoulder rose and fell with a deep sigh, and he turned to look back at Rey with a look that made worry spark in her chest. “What truth,” she asked, voice taking on an edge of suspicion.

 

Lips pressed into a thin line, the Jedi Master returned to his seat, crossing his hands together in his lap and outwardly preparing himself for what was apparently a very substantial secret. He returned her look without hesitation, a certain softness to his gaze that she hadn’t seen before. “You were too young to remember, of course, when Ben turned on us. I’m sure you’ve been seeing glimpses in your dreams, but it happened when you were very young. Barely older than five, I believe, because Ben was fifteen.”

 

Rey’s back straightened immediately at the mention of her younger years, the years that she could not remember, that she wanted to know so badly of. “Wait,” she stopped suddenly, heart rate picking up just slightly, doubt in her tone, “you said when he turned on _us._ You can’t possibly mean that—“

 

“Yes, Rey. You were one of my young padawans at the Academy. And you knew Ben.”

 

Silence filled the small hut like a suffocating fume for a very long time, Rey’s eyes widening and her mind racing, trying to make sense of what he had just told her. She could handle the knowledge of being one of Luke’s padawans without much trouble, but knowing Ben?—it was almost impossible to reconcile. Luke, sensing her struggle, decided to have mercy on her and continued to explain.

 

“He was eleven when you arrived. You were merely an infant, of course. You latched on to Ben almost immediately, once you were there. Few others could get you to sleep, or could feed you. When you grew old enough to walk and run, no one could stop you from following him. He always acted bothered, but I knew better.”

 

There was pain behind the fondness in his voice, though Rey couldn’t feel sympathetic for him in the moment, still too shocked by his words. She had known Ben Solo. She had _known_ him. “If this is true, then why wouldn’t he say something? Why wouldn’t he try to cause me more pain by bringing up my past?”

 

Luke shook his head. “He was very fond of you, before the end. Apparently enough so to keep you alive. I had thought that all of my padawans were dead, but when you arrived in the Falcon, I—well, I was proven wrong. I can only imagine that he took you from the Temple to Jakku. I myself hail from a planet much like yours, where no one would think to look. It would make sense that he would stow you away there. And if he truly cared that much for you, then he most likely did not want you to remember him as Ben Solo, to cause you undue pain.”

 

“You almost sound as if you are defending him, Master,” Rey could not keep the harsh tone out of her voice, shock and anger mixed together in her chest and unable to be tamed. Luke shook his head once again, pain resurfacing in his eyes.

 

“There is no excusing some of the things that my neph—Kylo Ren has done. There are explanations, and the fault does not lie entirely with him. Mistakes were made on my part, and on Han and Leia’s parts, mistakes that, if they had not happened, could have prevented his turn. I suspect that my sister believed there was still Light in him, which is why she sent Han to retrieve him. From what you have told me, and this event now…I don’t believe that my sister is wrong.”

 

“You think that there is still Light in him,” Rey said, less of a question and more of a statement. Luke hesitated, and then nodded slowly, a sure and deliberate motion. “Do you?”

 

Rey was taken aback by the question, not having been prepared to answer it, and dropped her gaze to the green-tinted tea in the cup between her hands, steam no longer rising off of the surface as it grew chilled. She was sure she hated Kylo Ren. He had hurt her friend, had killed his father, had played a part in the deaths of hundreds…yes, she had every reason to hate him.

 

But did she really?

 

A small part of Rey, the little voice that always frustrated her with its reason and truth, reminded her of her own loneliness and abandonment, of the feeling of not belonging and the satisfaction of finding a place to call home. Perhaps…perhaps they were not so different after all.

 

“If there were still Light in him,” Rey said suddenly, her voice quiet, almost too quiet to reach her Master across the hut, “would our…Force Bond help in bringing him back?”

 

Another long silence stretched after that, so much that Rey had to look up to make sure that Luke was still there and listening to her. His gaze was piercing, his mouth set in the barest hint of a smile. It would have frightened her, if she did not know better.

 

“I once knew a man that thought he could bring a Skywalker back towards the Light all on his own, Rey. It is an admirable thought, but impossible. Only he can bring himself back from the Dark Side. Though, that does not mean someone can't give him a strong kick in the right direction.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One thing I want to make sure that ya'll keep in mind: trying to redeem Kylo Ren is NOT the same as excusing and justifying all of his actions as Kylo Ren. So Rey possibly beginning down a path of trying to use this Force Bond to pull Kylo back towards the middle ground isn't her forgetting everything that he has done. Just wanting to make that clear before we move on! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A seed of doubt is a dangerous thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies! Here's the third chapter for you all. I hope you enjoy, and I would love some feedback from you!

He hated her.

 

He hated her warmth, and the way that her mind shone like the sun into his own. He hated that as she grew stronger, it was harder for him to block her side of the bond out from him own. He hated when Snoke’s final stages of training left him broken, bruised, bloody, and beaten, the barest hints of her practicing forms and meditating in the back of his mind brought him solace and comfort.

 

He _hated_ her, because she embodied everything that he couldn’t be.

 

A hard life of survival on Jakku had clearly taught her how to live on the line between good and evil. Sometimes, he could feel her frustration and anger. Sometimes, he could feel the outright fear and loathing that she felt towards the First Order. Sometimes, she appeared as Dark as one could get. But then, in those times, she knew how to rein herself in. Hard exertion through running, climbing, and practicing forms left her feeling centered and his muscles aching from activity he had never done. Memories of the traitorous Stormtrooper and Dameron overshadowed feelings of fear in her mind, and left him feeling all the more lonely. And in those moments, she was as Light as one could get.

 

Rey, without even trying, was carving out her own path through the center of the Force, acting as a slave to no one, and he _hated_ her for it, because he had no room to make his own choices anymore. Kylo felt his blood begin to boil again, as it always did, needing a release before it ate him alive from in the inside out. His fingers grasped for his missing lightsaber, a low, guttural growl climbing up his throat again at not having it there on him. He needed to vent, to let out his frustration, to find the balance that she so easily found. Because the worst part about it all?

 

He didn’t actually hate _Rey._

 

For years, almost two decades, he had been following every given order, practically killing himself in training, blindly obeying every beck and call of his Master. He had devoted his life to the Dark Side, had taken the life of Han Solo just to prove it, and yet it was never good enough. It was never good enough to quench the Light in him, it was never good enough proof for Snoke, and it was never good enough for him to master the Force.

 

Had he been misguided all this time? Could his father have been right, that he was being used—

 

“ _No!_ ”

 

Kylo’s shout filled the empty training room, various objects shaking violently with the pulse of pure energy that flew outwards from his body in his anger. This was all he knew. This was his life now, there was no turning back. The Resistance would never let him live, there was no path for him but with Snoke. He might die in the process, but Kylo Ren would not turn from the path that he had given everything to. He couldn’t. He couldn’t show weakness, it’s not what his grandfather would do.

 

The ghost of Anakin Skywalker had never returned his attempts at communication, but it had to be true. Darth Vader would not approve of him crawling back to the Resistance with his tail between his legs. If anything, he would not fail his grandfather. He couldn’t.

 

The loud thud of the training room’s door opening drew Kylo out of his mental fury viciously, making his neck hurt with how quickly he turned. He took his penance in the terrified look on the young officer’s face who had dared to interrupt him so abruptly, offering a low grunt to prompt him.

 

“T-the Supreme Leader has requested me to deliver a message, sir. He has a mission for you.”

 

Kylo’s eyebrows drew together, a hint of confusion flashing through his mind before he turned away, thankful for the new mask that was still sealed onto his head, hiding his face from the young officer. Kylo Ren was never confused. “Get on with it,” he spat out, still vibrating with angry energy. He didn’t want to kill the man before receiving his message, though he did not understand why Snoke had not summoned him to his chambers himself.

 

“There is a small ship in the western hangar awaiting you, sir. It is already programmed with the coordinates that the Supreme Leader has requested you go to for the last stage of your training.”

 

Kylo’s upper lip curled behind his helmet, annoyance joining the anger in his blood. “And why should I take my orders from a lowly peon and not my Master himself,” he all-but snarled in return, growing closer and closer to the point of not being able to control his frustration at the entire situation. A sharp spike of fear radiated from the young officer, who was now visibly shaking with a close enough look.

 

“I-I have orders, sir, signed by General Hux. He said tha-at you have been waiting on the final stage of your training.”

 

The Knight flexed his hands, curling them into fists and reaching out with the Force towards his Master. Usually, he would not dare to contact the Supreme Leader on his own, for Snoke was always the one to initiate contact. With his latest disapproval for Kylo’s failure, though, he had to be sure that this was his Master’s bidding. He was met with a wall of fury so strong that it quite literally knocked him from his feet, his hands clutching the helmet around his head as pain seared through it. The message was clear: do not attempt to reach out, return to training, redeem himself. His Master clearly was not interested in seeing him until his duties had been completed.

 

That still left the problem of the young officer, though, who now looked shocked and terrified at having seen the Master of the Knights of Ren reduced to a cringing mess on the floor of his own training room. All of Kylo Ren’s fury was channeled into the Force Choke. The officer’s neck snapped with a sickening crunch, though it did nothing to center him, as it would have before. Now, it just set him more on edge. Kylo Ren was falling apart, and perhaps this was the reason that he was being sent off-world.

 

He needed no further prompting.

 

* * *

 

 

“He’s leaving,” the realization dawned on Rey’s mind suddenly and with a gust of different emotions. It was enough to make her falter in her meditation, eyes snapped open as a wave of anger and confusion washed over her. Luke, who was seated across from her on the hilltop, pulled himself from his own meditation, frowning thoughtfully at his padawan. “Is he leaving, or being sent away?”

 

It didn’t take much for Rey to make that conclusion, based off of his anger. “Sent away. I’m only catching glimpses, his mind is chaotic when he’s angry. It’s like a wall, but with small holes in it.” Luke nodded, straightening his back a little more and once again appearing thoughtful.

 

“Snoke must not be pleased with him, after everything. If you manage to figure out where he is going, it would be valuable for us to know. If anything, it will give us an idea of Snoke’s plans for him.”

 

Rey’s lips pinched together into a thin line, trying to recall what it felt like in the interrogation room when she had pushed back into Kylo Ren’s mind. Perhaps she could do the same now, see more of his thoughts. A small part of her was simply curious, which Rey chose to ignore for now. Where could he be going?

 

They would soon find out, she supposed, and settled back into her meditation with a few deep breaths.


End file.
